The Sorting of Miss Dominique Weasley
by ScottishTimeLady
Summary: The interest in the sorting of a Weasley was rather high, and being the second one in the generation caught a lot of people's interest. Victoire watches her younger sister being sorted. (one-shot/drabblet)


**The Sorting of Miss Dominique Weasley**

The first years walked down the side of the hall in twos, their faces a mixture of wonder from the splendour of the hall and embarrassment from the self-consciousness of being far too aware that ever pair of eyes in the hall were on them. Of course, not every one was focusing on them, in fact, most students were fiddling impatiently, ravenous for the feast to come, but none of the first years realised this. There were, of course, a few exceptions to these rules. A few first years didn't seem affected by this charade, a couple even happy to be the centre of it all. There were older siblings who were obliged to pay proper attention to the sorting, although whether it was because they or concerned about their little siblings or waiting to torment them later wasn't clear.

Amidst the sea of black along the shimmers of midnight blue and flashes of bronze there was a shocking flow of silver blonde hair half hiding as one of the ornate blue eyes focused on the line of first years. The third year – a Miss Victoire Weasley – was waiting earnestly for her younger sister to be sorted. She wasn't waiting to be malicious afterwards as a fellow Ravenclaw fourth year next to her who was going to be counting the seconds of the length of time it took for his brother to be sorted and bully him about it later, no, Victoire was genuinely curious to see where the girl would go. Of course, she had a very good idea, but she knew you never really knew with these things. Victoire, herself, had been a surprise: the first Weasley in generations _not_ to be sorted into the Scarlet House. Not that she minded, wise old Ravenclaw was perfect for her: precise and factual – perfect. However, the young eagle would have to wait for the long line to dwindle before she'd get to know the end result.

Slowly, one by one, student after student was sorted. Victoire's stomach clenched as she watched the small familiar figure fidget from foot to foot.

"Weasley, Dominique."

Victoire's eyes snapped onto the shimmer of red hair as her sister stumbled forward towards the stool. She glanced at Teddy who winked and smiled, knowing only too well that Victoire would be more nervous about a family member's sorting than she had been about her own.

Dominique sat on the stool and the hat was placed on her head, slipping over her eyes.

Victoire held her breath.

There was silence in the hall.

The sorting of a Weasley was... let's just say something people were interested in. The famous Weasleys, what exactly were they like? Where would this one go? Would she follow in her ancestor's footsteps? Or break the rules like her sister and go to the house of blue and bronze? Or maybe even to _another_ one? The first Weasley in Slytherin? Hufflepuff?

Dominique was a determined child, and always had been. She was different from Victoire, more fruitful than flowery, although she liked them both – for eating and smelling, respectfully. The two were close, different enough that they had arguments which kept life interesting. Victoire strained her eyes to try and see what was going on under the brim of the battered hat. They were talking, thoughts and whispers to one another. A lot of people do that; Victoire had. But was there really a need? The fiery temper and forcefulness as well as bravery screamed out the obvious. Victoire knew Dominique would follow the Weasley name and not just because she'd inherited the red hair but because it made sense for Dominique to be there, it _was_ what the child was suited to, so really what on –

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"What?" Victoire gasped as an eruption of cheers sprang up from the next table. Dominique took off the hat smiling shyly down at the table as she walked towards it.

Victoire didn't really understand. Dominique was a Gryffindor through and through!

The wild shock of hair settled against a swarm of yellow and black and Victoire watched as Teddy greeted her enthusiastically, his hair turning comically striped yellow and black as it had been blue and bronze at her own sorting. The next name was called and as the buzz settled down Victoire managed to catch her younger sister's eye.

Dominique grinned and gave her a thumbs-up.


End file.
